Be Held
by hatebelow
Summary: harry needs comfort. Hermione gives it (ps I need a beta. HELP me pleeze)


I realise it's taking me forever to finish my others fics, so here is a one shot you may enjoy.

disclaimer: I own nothing. Stop rubbing it in.

**Like He Needed to Be Held**

The entire common room was quiet with the exception of the crackling fire. It was only a November night and already freezing in the castle. Hermione had placed herself directly in front of the fireplace on the floor. The majority of her back braced by the couch, she leaned over, face to page, devouring the words and pictures. This had to be the thirtieth time she had read Hogwarts a history. It was her ultimate favourite. Each time it held something new and even more fascinating than the last.

She was so absorbed in her reading; she was startled when the portrait gave a loud creak, granting entrance to whomever had given the correct password. It was of course Harry. No one else was allowed in the corridors at 2 o'clock in the morning. He was just coming back from his private lessons with Dumbledore. The lessons were supposed to prepare him for Voldemort. How in hell was he suppose to fight Voldemort off when he was bloody tired. The lessons kept getting later and longer. Some days he didn't get in before dawn. He looked exhausted. His face looked gaunt and weak. His usually glimmering emerald eyes looked haunted and unrecognisable. His usually pout lips were drawn in such a way that they almost looked invisible. He held a grim expression that was very unHarry-like. He walked with the haunch of a man. A man with too much on his mind, heart, and body.

But Harry wasn't a man. He was just a boy. Not the boy-who-lived. Just a boy. _Her_ boy. She come to the realisation at the start of the term, he was hers. Her Harry. Harry just wanted to be a boy. And around her his was. She was as nice around him, as bossy, and as outspoken. He was just one of the guys. As she was to him. Which was what made her love him.

Harry didn't seem to notice her as he walked across the common room in heavy strides. He had his head down. His hair was just covering most of his face. During their seventh year, Harry hair had a growth spurt. It was long and almost controllable. It framed his face in loose waves. He paused before going up the staircase to the dormitories, holding the rail for support. Then he just collapsed. He fell to the floor and dissolved in tears. In an instant, Hermione went to him. She kneeled on the floor and cradled his head in her bosom. She whispered sweet nothings and words of encouragement into his ears and heart. His sobs were loud and uncontrollable. They wracked his body so violently; he appeared to have tremors. But she just held him like she knew he needed to be held. Running her fingers through his hair, placing soft gentle kisses on his face and neck, rubbing circles into the small of his back. He clung to Hermione like a small child who needed his mother. He had a fistful of her shirt in one clutch and a fistful of her hair in the other. He buried his wet face into her neck, causing some of the tears to drizzle down her shirt. She just held him like he needed to be held.

An hour later, his sobs had calmed considerably and he was wiping his face with a handkerchief Hermione had given him. He pulled out of Hermione gentle embrace and settled his head in her lap. So this left Hermione sitting on the floor with her back against the wall and Harry was lying with his head in her lap. Her hands were inattentively brushing his bangs back from his forehead. He appeared to be quite comfortable. And if he was comfortable, who was Hermione to disturb his peace. It was so rare that he got peace. So she allowed the silence. It was a comfortable silence. The only disturbance in the silence was the cackling of the firewood, the sound of their breathing, and beating of their racing hearts.

"Umm." Harry started, sounding slightly embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it, Harry."

"Why?" he asked sounding honestly confused. Okay she'd play along.

"Why what?"

"You know." So he knew she knew.

"Because you needed to be held." she replied simply.

"Oh...Thank you. But I still don't understand." he said sitting up. Hermione gave an exasperated sigh.

"Because you're my friend Harry and I love you. And that's what friend do." His eyes opened in surprise.

"You love me?"

"Duh."

"Oh... Well... I love you, too." he said ready to settle back into her lap.

"No Harry. I _love _you."

"OK"

"No like this-" she placed her hand at the nape of his neck, pulling him to her. Hermione kissed him firmly as he slid his arms around her waist. It quickly grew more passionate. He touched the tip of his tongue to her bottom lip. She parted her lips giving him access, pushing her mouth harder against his. They finally drew apart for oxygen. Why did oxygen have to be a necessity?

"In that case Hermione, I love you, too." he said before placing his head back in her lap.

"But-" she said pressing the matter.

"Hermione? Just hold me OK?" And she did. She held him the way he needed to be held. No questions asked.


End file.
